The Sorting of Draco Malfoy
by drarrelie
Summary: Draco always knew he was expected to become the undisputed leader of the proud and respected House of Slytherin. Now, all he has to do is make sure that formality becomes reality. - Canon compliant, Hogwarts House Sorting, Hogwarts House Traits, wit, cunning, Occlumency, expectations, Father-Son Relationship, angst


Draco always knew he was expected to become the undisputed leader of the proud and respected House of Slytherin; the home of his parents and all his ancestors. For the Heir of Malfoy, to be sorted Slytherin upon arriving at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was considered a mere formality, another predestined stepping stone on his way to greatness.  
Now, all he has to do is make sure that formality becomes reality.

Author's notes:

Beta love! _BrandonStrayne and SighNoMore_, what would I ever do without you? This fic would read much differently if it weren't for you, and I'm most grateful for the privilege of being able to have you as part of my creative team. Thanks for holding my hand and steadying me through the painful process of darling-killing. As always, you've done a brilliant job and I have only myself to blame for any remaining mistakes.  
Thanks also to _LapindelaLune_ whose support I'll always treasure and appreciate.

English is not my native language so please be kind if you find any errors I've missed. That said, I'll appreciate any feedback you're willing to give me - follows, favs and reviews are my primary life sources.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to — and are reverently borrowed from — JKR and associated publishers.

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"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," the stern, old witch proclaimed. "Abbott, Hannah!"

_Alright, Draco. You can do this. It's only one brief moment that will define the rest of your life, no pressure._ He took a deep cleansing breath through his nose, trying to slow down the pace of his racing heart.

It had been hours since the train had left Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, and even though they should have been drowned out from the excitement of the journey, Father's parting words still rang in his head like an ominous gong of doom.

Draco had been leaning out from one of the windows, looking down at his parents standing just outside on the busy platform. It still felt unreal to think he wouldn't be seeing them again until Christmas.

"Don't worry, Son. Once you're sorted into Slytherin, you'll feel right at home."

"But…" Draco remembered himself saying without really meaning to voice his anxiety. "What if the Sorting Hat doesn't…?"

"Of course it will, Draco. Don't be daft. You're a Malfoy. We have been sorted Slytherin for centuries, and you will be too."

"But—" Draco stammered, knowing full well he wouldn't like the answer to the question he was about to ask. "W-what if I'm not?"

"Then I'll disown you, of course!"

He'd said it with a smirk and a wink, but Draco knew his father well enough to know his words probably hadn't been too far from the truth. At his declaration, Mother had just shaken her head with a fond look at her husband, clearly amused by the mere thought of Draco ending up anywhere else than in the Slytherin dungeons.

There were only two issues with this.

Firstly, Draco really didn't want to live for seven years in some cold, damp, creepy dungeon. From what he'd heard and read about it, it sounded downright dreadful, what with its underwater windows and dusky green-tinted lighting. Not to mention all those awful snakes everywhere. Even now, an involuntary shudder went down his spine at the mere thought. Draco had always hated the nasty, unreliable creatures; the way they moved, without legs and arms like any normal animal, always making him squirm with unease.

Secondly, Draco was quite sure he actually didn't belong in Slytherin.

"Crabbe, Vincent!"

Draco snapped out of his thoughts and tried to focus on his surroundings as Vince went up to the stool to meet his fate.

"Slytherin!"

_Good for him_, Draco thought reluctantly as he watched his friend stroll down to sit next to Millie, a huge grin on his face. _He'll make his father proud_.

Anticipation clawing at him, Draco was unable to quell the swarm of pixies stirring in his stomach. He looked up at the head table, seeking out his godfather and willing him to meet his gaze. Silently begging for his reassurance.

They had been practising for this moment together for over a year, ever since Draco first read about the four houses in _Hogwarts: A History_ and realised the need to take action. He still remembered the scorch mark on great-aunt Walburga's family tapestry where his cousin's name had once been — the cousin who hadn't been sorted Slytherin, but Gryffindor.

There was no way Draco would allow himself meeting the same fate. If he ever were to be obliterated from the Malfoy family tree, where would he even go? Surely none of his friends' families would take him in considering they were all close to his parents. Father would never let them.

It had taken some time to work up the courage to finally approach Uncle Severus with the matter. He was one of Father's closest friends after all, and there was no guarantee his godfather wouldn't rat him out. But after explaining his predicament, Uncle Severus had agreed to secretly help Draco prepare in the only way they could think of.

They weren't even sure it was going to work; deceiving the Sorting Hat was no easy feat, and most would probably deem the mission impossible. But, considering the alternative, it was definitely worth a try.

So, they had practised. Occlumency. Draco had come up with the idea during research, and since he knew his godfather to be a skilled Occlumens it had felt like the perfect solution. Uncle Severus had been rather sceptical about it when he was first presented with his godson's plan. Draco could hardly blame him; all of the texts he'd found on the subject firmly stated that this was a rare and difficult skill to master, and even Draco could see the improbability of a ten-year-old being able to learn it.

But the urgency had brought out the willpower needed, and Draco had dived into the subject with a passion only found in those of his true house. He'd read all books he could find in the Malfoy library that even mentioned the word Occlumency. And when that hadn't been enough, his godfather had provided him with a whole stack of textbooks covering the theory behind the art.

It had taken almost six months of training before Draco had been able to produce even the first flicker of a mental shield to hold Severus's intrusions at bay. It had been weak and had only lasted for a couple of seconds, but Draco still remembered the day as one of the best in his eleven-year long life.

"Slytherin!"

Draco realised he'd zoned out again when the Sorting Hat proclaimed Greg worthy of joining Vince and the others at the Slytherin table. Warily scanning the group of anxious first years around him, he noticed with a jolt that nearly half of them had already been sorted and seated. It could be his turn any moment now.

_That's enough, Draco. Focus!_

But it was harder than he'd thought, focusing on the state of his mind and its tangle of swirling thoughts and emotions while standing in an unfamiliar environment like this and easily distracted by everything happening around him. Before he'd even managed to put up the mental barriers and begin the compartmentalising, a bushy-haired girl had already gone to Gryffindor followed by another Slytherin in the form of the older Greengrass sister.

Draco watched absently as the sorting went on from there, concentrating fully on visualising the space of his mind as his godfather had taught him. With practised ease, the visual image flickered into existence before his inner eye. A circular room, all surfaces a shining black the likes of a well-polished grand piano. Seven black doors around the perimeter, all glowing faintly in a different colour, like precious jewels in the dark.

"Hufflepuff!"

Ignoring his rapidly beating heart, Draco sifted through his mind, carefully separating its content. Months of practise had rendered an efficient flow to his mental motions, and with Severus's help, he'd been able to create an impeccable filing system for everything he needed to stow away from the Sorting Hat's probing magic. Just like all his worldly belongings, every single piece of his mind had been given its dedicated place behind one of these doors.

"Hufflepuff!"

They'd discussed it at length. Draco had been dead set on locking up everything — every trace of information that might influence the Sorting Hat's decision — while Uncle Severus had assured him time and again that such thoroughness would hardly be necessary. Although usually keeping his godfather's advice in high esteem, Draco had stubbornly refused to listen to his objections in this case.

Surely, Draco was the master of his own mind, and he was not going to risk anything tonight, no matter his godfather's opinion.

So, clearing his mind, Draco gathered up all his stray thoughts and let them go behind the first door, the one pulsating with a gentle purple glow. Memories went next, readily following his directions to hide behind the second door, its dark blue shimmer resembling the hue of sapphires. An emerald door closed on all his personal relations and before he knew it, all his traits, habits and quirks were safely tucked away behind the door shining a rich, citrine yellow.

"Ravenclaw!"

Wishes and dreams obligingly exited through what Draco thought of as the diamond door, emanating a colourless white glow, before he resolutely wrapped up all his straying emotions and—

_Shit_.

Draco almost lost control of his mental cleansing when a commotion arose around him, thanks to some absent-minded, clumsy idiot forgetting to take off the Hat before heading towards the Gryffindor table. When the peace was restored and the witch called for a MacDougal Something-or-other, Draco nearly panicked. They'd reached _M_ now, no time to lose.

_Right_. The bundle of emotions was all but thrown away behind the ruby red door, and once all his thoughts were safely tucked away behind the last door, glowing a bright topaz turquoise, he took a quick look around his mind-room, finding it satisfyingly empty. As he locked all seven doors with his imaginary gold key, a chubby, blond boy named Macmillan was called to sit on the stool.

Knowing he'd surely be the next in line to be sorted, Draco forced himself to ignore his growing trepidation, focusing instead on completing his well-practised ritual. Gingerly opening the small trapdoor in the middle of his room, he released the one word to be echoed infinitely against the black walls.

"Hufflepuff!" yelled the Hat, and Draco tried to relax his stance. As the newly appointed Puff raised to meet his cheering housemates, Draco chanced a glance at his godfather. Meeting his apprentice's gaze, Uncle Severus gave a brief acknowledging nod while a barely-there smile flickered over the man's features. Draco willed his lips into an answering smirk and unclenched his clammy hands. His well-manicured nails had all but broken the skin of his palms, and Draco hadn't even noticed.

"Malfoy, Draco!"

Letting out a breath he hadn't known he was holding, Draco hastily draped himself in feigned cockiness and swaggered over to the stool with all the confidence he didn't feel. As he sat down facing the room, he showed off his patented smirk, never once letting his focus stray from the single word still ringing loudly in the void of his cleared mind-room.

Its brim had barely grazed the hairs on Draco's head before the Sorting Hat bellowed, "Slytherin!," echoing the voice in Draco's mind.

_Yes_. Relief washed over him with such force he nearly fell from the stool as his well-hidden tension suddenly melted into nothing. _I made it_.

_You sound surprised?_ The Sorting Hat's question echoed amused in Draco's head. _Trying to trick me with Occlumency? Surely a clever young boy like you would realise only a true Slytherin would attempt to pull that off?_

Its dry chuckle stayed with Draco for hours afterwards.


End file.
